


Pagan Fears

by dr_zook



Category: Weiß Kreuz
Genre: Black Metal, M/M, Mayhem, Pre-Canon, Team Schwarz, corpsepaint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-16
Updated: 2018-09-16
Packaged: 2019-07-13 02:49:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16008710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dr_zook/pseuds/dr_zook
Summary: You probably didn't know that Schuldig was listening to Black Metal in his youth. The 90s were wild, kids. Listen and learn.





	Pagan Fears

**Author's Note:**

  * For [indelicateink](https://archiveofourown.org/users/indelicateink/gifts).



> I unearthed this from my old hard drive, and don't remember the circumstances of writing that scene. I hope you don't mind the gift, indelicateink! XD

"What the _fuck_ do you think are you doing?"  
  
Schuldig has never seen Crawford this irritated before. Irritated in general, yes. But this time his black eyebrows are drawing closer and closer together. He should stop that, being irritated, lest he wants a permanent Mariana Trench.  
  
"Corpse paint, man." Schuldig applies some more black around his eyes, letting it lash out against the white of his lime-washed temples. He's fucking done with mascara only to freak out the Elders.  
  
"Corpse _what?"_ Now the American is even grimacing, his nose scrunching in a way only old grannies' would do. Like the little make-up sponge tickled his nostrils.  
  
Schuldig sighs and angles with an un-sodden finger for the pick-up of his record player; lets it sink onto the rotating vinyl again, where he had stopped it before and instruments trundle and screech, fiercely, and nastily recorded. Galloping along, and then a voice bellows: _The bloody history from the past / deceased humans now forgotten. An age of legends and fear / a time now so distant._  
  
"I like this version better than the album version with that Hungarian guy," Schuldig explains casually and returns to Crawford's face which alternates in radiating vibes of being lifeless and lost.  
  
Crawford grunts and reluctantly relaxes. His shoulders had tightened up when the first tunes of Mayhem bellowed through the small chamber they are sharing.  
  
"You know, I was there," Schuldig says, applying the last dabs of paint below Crawford's eyes. "At that show." He nods towards the stereo. "Some guys there taped it to sell it later. Not exactly a bootleg, but well. It was only a few years after the fall of the Berlin Wall, one of the first really tough bands around."  
  
Crawford watches him intently and refrains from commenting. When they had first met, he had asked the German if you dropped dead when you read out loud what's written on Schuldig's dismal band-shirt. The redhead had only laughed and flicked back some of his almost greasy hair. Had beamed and added: "Not if you're as fearless as myself."  
  
They did shake hands then, although Crawford could never decipher the lettering.

**Author's Note:**

> Of course you know that Schuldig is exposing Crawford to Mayhem's _Live in Leipzig_ LP, which was recorded in 1990 (and released three years later). Their early singer Dead was supposedly the first musician to use corpse paint in order to look, in fact, like a corpse and not just vaguely otherworldly (like Alice Cooper or KISS).


End file.
